


Best Friends and Boyfriends

by Gay_knights



Category: Yuri!!! on ICE
Genre: Agonizing mutual pining, Childhood Friends AU, EmiMike, I'm a slut for childhood friends AU, M/M, MichEmil, collection of drabbles, it's just like stupid and funny shit they get theirselves into, it's kinda slow burn but not really because these aren't organized in a specific timeline, lot of build up and stuff, sweer childhood crushes to like actually being in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 17:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11994204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gay_knights/pseuds/Gay_knights
Summary: They'd been friends since before Emil can remember, he knows a lot of things about Michele Crispino. How he takes his coffee, how he wears the same shirt every time he has a big exam because he thinks it brings him good luck, and even that he still keeps the friendship bracelet Emil gave him when they were seven. What he didn't know, however, is that Michele Crispino is also an idiot. It's a childhood friends AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A general note for the whole fic: I'm screwing with their ages a bit for no other reason than it's easier to be friends with someone in high school if they're two years older than you verses four years. That's it. There's literally no other reason. Now enjoy this chapter of embarassing childhood recollection and misunderstandings.

1\. Hey, bro, remember that time you asked me to marry you?

The dim evening light spills through the thin curtains onto the the book Mickey is reading, having only been reading it for the sake of something to do, barely paying attention to the plot, his gaze was easily distracted from the worn pages. He takes a sip of his coffee- black of course, no point in ruining a perfectly good cup of coffee with cream and sugar. As he lifts the mug to his lips Mickey glances over to Emil, who was scrolling on his phone, presumably on instagram or possibly tumblr. Mickey takes note of how the the soft, pinkish light gives Emil’s skin a warm tone to it and how the mellow smile on his lips seemed to match perfectly with the small sky of freckles that speckled across his nose during the summer months. He remembers how those freckles trail down on his shoulders and chest, and if Mickey looks hard enough he can see them peeking through the the sleeves of his shirt. Mickey smiles slightly at the thought of tracing over the few freckles on Emil’s back with his finger, almost like little constellations.

Constellations. Emil would like that, he always did love space. His eyes always dazzling and sparkling when he looked up at the sky. Mickey thinks about all the times Emil has talked to him about his interests, the way his smile always grew wider and how he seemed to buzz with excitement, sometimes he would clap his hands for emphasis or out of pent up enthusiasm. Mickey would always sit back and listen, reminding him to slow down and take a breath every once in a while before delving back into his favorite topic at the time.

He never told Emil, but it always annoyed Mickey when people said he would grow out of excitedly talking about his interests, it wasn’t a habit, it was simply something that made Emil happy, it made Emil Emil. It always put them both in a better mood, when Mickey feels down he asks Emil to tell him about something he’s passionate about. Seeing his friend so joyous made Mickey’s spirits higher and his blithe manner keeps a grin plastered to his face.

Mickey swallows and shakes his head gently as he removes the cup from his lips. This was no way to think about his friend, his best friend at that. Emil just looked so content, he couldn’t help his mind from wondering. Wondering to the memories of Emil’s eyes sparkling in the dark as they sat in the damp grass, looking up at the stars. The little flecks of green in his eyes reflecting the beautiful- no. This isn't how someone thinks about their best friend. Mickey told himself.

All this reminiscing about memories reminds Mickey of one memory in particular. And without thinking, he suddenly blurts it out, “Hey, Emil, do you remember when you were six and asked me to marry you?”

Emil makes a small, choked noise from accidentally inhaling his hot chocolate. He coughs a few times then glares into his hot chocolate, trying to distract himself from how red his cheeks feel. “What? No, I think I repressed that memory. But why do I only remember crying about it?” He trails off, his voice quieter than usual.

Mickey notices how flustered Emil seems, and registers what he just blurted out. The memory sends heat rushing to his face and make his eyes dart to anywhere but Emil. “Yea,” he laughs nervously and rubs the back of his neck. “I was eight I think, and you were six or seven. Our families got together over winter break and you gave me one of those plastic rings you got from a quarter machine. I picked you up and kissed your forehead, and you bursted out into tears.”

Emil slowly starts remembering as Mickey jogs his memory. “Purple.”

“What?”

“The ring, it was purple.” Emil looks at his fidgeting hands resting on the table. “My favorite color. I gave up my favorite purple ring to you.” He mumbles.

Eyebrows knitted and head tilted slightly, Mickey tries to read Emil’s expression. It was obvious he was embarrassed, but there seems to be something behind it. Behind his adorably red nose and cheeks. Behind those dancing eyes and tapping fingers. Mickey has the strange urge to reach his hand out and brush his fingers across his cheeks and let them trail down his jaw, looking into those wonderfully deep blue eyes. Mickey swallowed thickly, “Oh.” Is all his brain seems to be able to muster.

Emil starts remembering more and more of the memory and the details become more vivid.

Michele’s mother had decided to invite over extended family over during winter that year, right before break started. Aunts and uncles along with a few cousins, not a big family get together, just a few folks over. Mickey hadn’t been close with any of them, and Sara wasn't too much better. Unlike her brother, though, she had managed to keep up a conversation with one of their cousins for more five minutes. Mostly just a few conversations about school here and there, at least she didn't sit in silence grimacing the entire time.

On the third day of the week of horribly awkward extended family time, Mickey approached his mother, “Mom, Emil told me at school he's feeling lonely. Do you think we could invite the Nekolas over for dinner?” Which wasn't technically a lie, Emil had told him he had been feeling lonely. With his father traveling and mother paying meager attention to little six year old Emil, he had to Mickey about having to learn cursive by himself. It was just that Mickey had taken advantage of this moment to have an excuse to invite him over, so he could at least have someone to talk to.

“I'm sure we could, dear, just let me talk to your father. Emil’s grandparents are visiting too, right? Maybe we could have them over as well, have a nice big dinner.”

Mickey nodded, remembering Emil also complaining about his grandparents, he had said they were difficult to talk to and constantly treated him like the little kid he was. He remembered Emil crossing his arms with a frustrated huff and puffing out his cheeks. He was an adorable little kid, Mickey had to admit but he sure did like to complain.

Once it had been settled, Michele had let a very excited Emil, they were all go for dinner the next evening. He also agreed to help him out with his cursive, which had Emil even more ecstatic than usual, and jumping up and down in place.

The day game along and Mickey swears Emil brought a choir of singing Angels along with him to his doorstep. He's not sure why, but it feels like the actual gates of heaven have opened, _Maybe Emil is actually Jesus and he's my personal savior._ Mickey supposes the thought is a bit of a reach but it definitely feels so.

Their mother’s greet each other with a hug and Emil’s grandfather steps forward to say hello, followed by his grandmother. Emil watched the adults exchange their welcomes patiently before he tugged at his mother’s hand, she smiled and handed him his backpack. “Mickey said he would help me with cursive, can we work on that right now?” He looks up at his mother, eyes wide with excitement.

She glanced at Michele’s mother then down at Michele, a questioning look on her face. “As long as it's okay with Michele and Mrs. Crispino, I don't see why not.”

“It's fine with me, but you'll have to work on the dining room table, your cousins are in your room, Michele.” Mrs. Crispino gestured to the dark stained, wooden table in the other room. Mickey frowned at his mother’s mention of his cousins in his room, probably rooting around _his_ things and messing up _his_ carefully organized desk and shelves. But he still grinned slightly when Emil grabs his hand to lead the two of them to the table.

They began their usual routine, Michele grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa for Emil to sit on, Emil waited for him in the kitchen and poured them each half a glass of milk. Mickey set the pillow on the chair Emil usually sat on at the end of the table, the two of them always held a conversation between the kitchen and dining room while Emil unpacked his things and Mickey prepared a snack.

When he would meet Emil in the dining room with their snack, Mickey liked to pretend he was a posh waiter with an even more exaggerated Italian accent. He put his finger over his top lip to act like a fake mustache for extra flair. “Apple slices and peanut butter for the Crispino-Nekola table.” And every time, Emil would burst out into a fit of giggles and every time Michele would reply with, “Excuse me sir, but apple slices and peanut butter are no laughing matter. I'm just doing my job by delivering these kind people their food. Do you have any idea where I can find Mr. Crispino and Mr. Nekola?” He only ever got that far before joining Emil in his fits of laughter. It was a ridiculous habit, really, but it was theirs.

They worked on cursive until Emil was satisfied with his twisting letters across the paper. Emil watched in amazement as Mickey’s pen glides gracefully across the scrap paper they had for practice. He does his best to mimic the movements, they're a little shakier than Mickey’s but they're more legible than before.

“Thank you for helping me!” Emil smiled wide as he packed away his papers back into his folder and then his backpack.

“You're welcome, besides cursive is fun too. Loopy letters.” Mickey drew loops and circles in the air with his pointer finger.

“I have a present for you, too.”

“Oh? Let me see!” Mickey quirked an eyebrow as Emil pulls him why his wrist into the family room. The adults’ conversations die down as Emil stands there with a confused Mickey at his side.

“What is it you wanted to gi-” He’s cut off when Emil pulls a small purple trinket from his back pocket gets down to his knees. Mickey shot a baffled glance at Sara, who's sitting at the other side of the room. She shrugged and smirked, feigning confusion.

“Michele I Promised I Would Never Tell Anyone Your Middle Name Crispino, will you marry me?” Or at least when we’re older, I don't think we can actually get married now.” Emil held out what Mickey can now see is a purple plastic ring he must have gotten from a 25 cents gum ball machine. Michele glances towards his and Emil’s families again, both their mothers look ready to get up and intervene and, wait, was Emil’s grandmother smiling?!

Michele’s expression softened when he looked back at a still determined Emil in front of him. He plucks the ring from Emil’s fingers and puts it on, admiring it on his finger. “Yes, I'll marry you.” A smile formed on Mickey’s face to match his rosy cheeks as Emil excitedly hugged him tight. When he pulled back, Mickey planted a quick kiss on Emil’s forehead, but began to panic when he noticed tears welling up in Emil’s eyes.

“Oh my gosh! Emil are you okay, I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?” Worry wavered in his voice, but it faded when he head Emil’s response.

“Yes! I'm perfect, Mickey, Thank you thank you!”

Emil snaps out of the memory, his face feels even warmer, but the smile on his face is growing now. “Do you still have it?”

“The ring?” Mickey glances down into the coffee cup in front of him, amid subconsciously reaches down to feel his wallet in his pocket. “I keep it in my wallet, you know, for memories and stuff.” The last part is a bit of a lie, but Mickey is determined to convince himself he keeps it there for nostalgia and nothing more. “I could tell you some more stories you probably don't remember, if you want.”

The thought keeps the smile plastered to Emil’s face, even as he takes a sip of his hot chocolate. “Yea, that sounds nice.”


	2. Emil and Mickey Fool Around In A Garage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is from the prompt  
> 58\. “This is by far the most stupid plan you’ve ever created. Of course I’m in.” That someone requested on my tumblr, but it fit the bill so I decided to add it to here too. In this one Emil is 15 and Mickey is 17 because Emil was totally an idiot teenage boy that got stupid ideas and forced Mickey to do them with him because he thought they were impressive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr is: @1pen1knife is you want to ever see more of my writing!  
> (Sorry for the misleading title ;))

“Listen, Mickey. We don’t have a bike park and my dad has a thick piece of wood in the garage, this could totally work.” Emil gestured to garage at the other end of the driveway, as he was trying to convince Mickey that using him and a piece of wood as a ramp was a good idea.  
“The road is steep and the wood is thick, you’ll be fine!” Mickey looked sceptical of Emil’s claim, arms crossed and eyes squinted. Of course, he eventually caved all Emil had to do was pitifully pout in the garage as he pretended to find something else to do. It was a sad sight, really but it was a sad sight that would take a heartless man to refuse. 

“Fine. I’ll be your ramp.” He cringed a bit at how weird his own words sounded.  
“Wait, really?” 

“This is by far the most stupid plan you’ve ever created. Of course I’m in.” Rubbing his temples, Mickey prepared himself for the possible disaster that was yet to come. “I’m really going to regret this.”  
Emil rummaged through his father’s garage for the wood he was sure that was in there. It took longer than it should have, as he was constantly finding little nick-nacks and mementos to excitedly show Mickey. Old school work and baby supplies mostly, but there was a broken lava lamp that looked oddly like a buttplug. Not that Mickey said anything about it of course, he’s a gentlemen and even though Emil was an immature teenager it still wasn’t the place for such crude humor. 

Suddenly there was a crash and a triumphant Emil emerging from the mess of a garage. “Ha! I found it!” 

“Isn’t your father going to be upset about us fooling around in his garage?” 

“Nah,” Emil waved off the question. “He’s already disappointed in me so it’s not like I can do anymore harm.” The grin fell from his face as he saw Mickey’s horrified expression. “I’m kidding! He’s only disappointed that I didn’t become an ice hockey player.” 

Ignoring his last comment, Mickey went back to his unimpressed expression and gestured to the street. “Alright let’s put your terrible idea into action. Grab your bike, I’ll take the wood” And with that, he plucked the plank from Emil’s arms and headed down to wait at the end of the driveway for Emil. The wood was a lot heavier than he had anticipated, How did Emil manage to make it look so effortless? Michele was the older one here and the more mature so he should be able to handle it. But then again, he was also supposed to be the taller one out of the two of them but that didn’t turn out in his favor. 

Mickey glanced down at Emil’s bike for a moment while he went through the plan again. 

“Okay so you’re going to be on your hands and knees at the bottom of the hill, don’t worry you won’t get hit the street is basically empty. So I’ll set the the plank on your back then go-” 

“Is your bike pink?” 

Without skipping a beat Emil quickly replied. “Yes, it was the cheapest one that was big enough. Besides, the seat is more comfortable and pink is a nice color.”  
Mickey just nodded, it was a reasonable enough answer and pink is in fact a nice color. 

“Anyway, you’ll have the plank on your back, I’ll be at the top of the hill and then use the plank as a ramp. Simple enough?” 

“Simple enough.” Mickey agreed and followed him to the bottom of the hill. Emil pointed for him to get down. He was on his hands and knees, palms on the pavement. “Like this?” Emil gave an affirmative nod and kept a grin plastered to his face. 

Once Emil had gotten to the top Mickey decided to give him some words of encouragement. “I swear to god and all that is holy, if I end up in the hospital you are personally paying the bills!” He shouted up at him. Emil obviously not understanding word he had said just gave a thumbs up and a goofy smile as he climbed on his bike. 

It hadn’t ended in a complete disaster, but it also hadn’t ended in a complete success either. Emil hadn’t missed the “ramp” but the wood had buckled a bit, causing him to hit Mickey in the arm with his bike and crash in the end. He did, however manage to get some air which was a plus. 

Michele heard Emil racing towards him and felt the weight on the wood followed by a sharp pain in his right forearm. Then a crashing sound and a groan coming from Emil. Immediately Mickey jumped up, the board clattering on sidewalk and jogged to Emil. He was sitting up now, wiping the rocks and dust from his scraped hands. 

“Hey man, are you alright?” Mickey put his hand on Emil’s back. 

“What?” He sniffed and and quickly stood up. “Yea I’m okay.” 

“Really? Because your knee are bleeding and you look like you’re about to cry.” He looked Emil over again for any other injuries but was surprised when he heard laughter coming from him. Mickey was confused but soon found himself laughing with him as well. Emil’s laughter really was contagious.

“What’s so funny?” Mickey managed to stutter out between fits of laughter. 

“I tried to-” Emil burst out laughing again, holding his stomach and getting blood on his shirt in the process. “I tried to make a makeshift ramp out of wood because I thought it would impress you!” He giggled again at his own ridiculousness. “What kind of a person does that?” 

Mickey stopped, surprised at Emil’s words, but oddly flattered nonetheless. He smiled softly and slung an arm around Emil, “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get you fixed up.”


End file.
